Marvel Preferences and Imagines (Taking Requests)

Lilacs

So really quick there isn't a specific MCU character in it, so I figured you can decided on your own who you want it to be about. Also instead of a regular story, this is a Sestina. Its a type of poem. Hopefully you guys like it.
Sorry I haven't updated in a while, there really aren't any proper excuses I can make. If you are still here, thanks for sticking with me...

Setting down the bouquet of lilacs,
She picks up her keys. With nimble fingers,
he guides her out; he shuts the door.
The house begins to settle down
while the quiet humming of vents.            fills the silence.
T

he chaos of life is gone.

Butterflies prance about his stomach. The dread he feels is gone
as he sees her wearing a flowing dress dyed lilac.
He laughs as her cheeks flush red and voice is silent.
She jabs his chest with a finger,
telling him to slow down.
He shrugs and hoists her on his shoulder, laughing as they race out away from the door.

She storms out the house. The door
swings open as he races to her, begging her to stay until his voice is gone.
He runs to the flower shop. He buys some lilacs
to give to her. He sets them by her window, turning away. He misses her fingers
that grip the flowers. Her quiet tears replace the silence.

Her phone rings. Words were supposed to be good. The silence
stricks her heart as she answers the call. Her mouth, covered by fingers,
opens and closes. The man hangs up. Her parents are gone.
She looks at the flowers, the lilacs.
Falling to the floor, her heart breaks down

into ashes. He races to pick her up and sets her down.
Wrapping her in a blanket. Trying to think of words that could help erase the silence.
She breathes, trying not to think about the garden. About her mother’s lilacs.
He begins to walk away, pausing at the door.
She stops him. She doesn’t want him to also be gone.
He slowly embraces her, and locks together their fingers.

She paces around. She can’t stop playing with her fingers.
Her best friend calms her down.
Organ music plays. The nerves she once had are gone,
and in their place are happy tears. She can’t help but admire him in the silence.
Laughter echoes in the church as they burst through the door.
Over them, children toss the tiny petals of lilacs.

Her daughter’s fingers are full of mountains of lilacs.
She races down the hall. Through the door,
she see her mom reading Gone With the Wind. Her mom grabs a flower, smiling, in silence